


wear a necklace of hope

by Authoress



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (but he's just as important), Gen, Hunger Games AU, LAURA IM SORRY I DONT THINK THIS IS WHAT U WANTED, each section dedicated to a char tanaka cares for, focus on protective!tanaka, minimal deaths, not as sad as it could have been, some implied relationships on the side, take them as romantic or platonic w/e you please, tanaka is not the mockinjay, trans girls hinata and yamaguchi, younger brothers narita and kinoshita
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 14:59:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3138521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authoress/pseuds/Authoress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone like him couldn’t win. He didn’t have the looks or the personality to wheedle life-saving gifts from sponsors. He wasn’t charming. He didn’t have a sob story.</p><p>Tanaka couldn’t win the Hunger Games, that much was certain. But he could do his damnedest to beat it.</p><p>
  <em>(Or, The Fourteen Lives of Tanaka Ryuunosuke.)</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	wear a necklace of hope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maychorian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maychorian/gifts).



> really late holiday gift for laura!! i hope you like it buddy.....you said au's were fine and then i uh. watched mockingjay.
> 
> for reference, since i used first names a lot: hisashi = kinoshita and kazuhito = narita

i + ii.

_are you, are you_

_coming to the tree?_

_they strung up a man_

_they say who murdered three._

It’s Hisashi’s first Reaping.

The boy has a fine tremor running through his whole body that can’t be mollified by even Kazuhito, his favorite elder brother. Kazuhito’s seen three Reapings—each one a fresh scar in his mind. He knows how terrifying it is. The joyous ceremony of the Capitol’s dogs, dressed in colors that seem to mock the drab, worn clothes of the children before them. The stark, petrifying white of the Peacekeepers and the tight professionalism of the record clerks with their lines of bloody fingerprints. Kazuhito has seen the whites of the eyes of boys chosen, dragged kicking and screaming or the shadows casting down their faces, aging them far past their teens as they walk stiffly forward. He knows that there’s no way to sugarcoat the fear and the horror of the first time. He still trembles when he thinks about it.

So Kazuhito does what he has to, takes Hisashi's tiny hands in his own, kisses the top of his downy head and hums the old lullaby he knows by heart into Hisashi's forehead.  

“ _Close…your eyes, you’ll be here soon…ichi, ni, san, shi, go, fun…_ ”

(Ryuu will be here soon. Ryuu will be here soon.)

Like a charm, the desperate prayer for their brother’s appearance summons the eldest Tanaka, kicking the door open with one heavy boot. Tanaka sticks his head inside, grinning when he spots the two boys.

“Oi, you two mind lending me a hand? I’ve got some scrap wood I chopped into kindling and it needs to be dragged in. We’ll have ourselves a mighty fire tonight,” Tanaka crows, gesturing outside. The task distracts Hisashi from his worrying, and he gladly rushes to lift the box and carry it inside. Kazuhito, not as easily taken off guard, follows behind. When Hisashi is safely out of earshot, he taps Tanaka on the shoulder.

“Where have you been?” He demands. “Hisashi is sick with anxiety, and it’s his first Reaping. How could you just leave us like that?”

Tanaka’s grin shifts into something more apologetic. “I didn’t want to, you know. But I have my reasons.” He covers the kindling boxes with a tarp and secures them tightly, ignoring the irritated sigh of the middle brother. Before Kazuhito can say another word, Tanaka speaks up again. “In those boxes, under the wood, you’ll find a few specialty items. Bandages, antibiotics, a new inhaler for Hisashi…also canned food in case times get rough. Y’know…just in case.”

Kazuhito’s mouth flaps like a fish. “Nii-san…” he settles on, weakly. Tanaka’s grin is back in full force. He slaps Kazuhito on the back with a laugh.

“There’s no way I won’t take care of you kids! C’mon, we’d better go. Peacekeepers get anxious with stragglers running around.” Tanaka walks into their living room and surprises Hisashi by lifting him onto his shoulders. Hisashi screeches in joy.

“Aniki, aniki! Look at me!” He laughs, reaching down to pat Kazuhito's head.

Kazuhito tucks in his shirt while Tanaka grumbles about how he better not get any ideas with that height, damn him. The three dissolve into friendly squabbling on the way to the town center, flanked by the dejected and the tearful.

It’s all fine until Hisashi asks Tanaka how many times him name is in. Tanaka’s expression falters for a moment, mask of breezy carelessness slipping slightly. “Oh, no need to worry about that,” Tanaka replies. “I’m in there quite a few times, but someone has to feed you brats.”

Hisashi rolls his eyes. “You eat the most anyway, nii-san.”

Tanaka looks affronted and in mock anger, tickles Hisashi, who tries his hardest not too laugh and act like a big boy. But Kazuhito can see the shiny metal of the arena and a cold settles in his stomach at Tanaka’s evasive answer. He has his own name in three times, to help relieve Tanaka’s burden, but now that he thinks about it, both he and Hisashi have been eating more as they grow. Could Tanaka have _increased_ the number of times his name is entered?

To laugh and smile like this, even as he walks into the jaws of death…Kazuhito thinks his brother very brave.

“Or very foolish,” he whispers to himself.

 

iii.

_are you, are you_

_coming to the tree?_

_where dead man called out_

_for his love to flee._

Tanaka finds his religion that day. He prays for Hisashi, his brave little warrior, teeth chattering up in the front and eyes squeezed shut. He prays for Kazuhito, his hero who grew up far past his fifteen years faster than he should have, awaiting the consequences of his heightened chances. Tanaka prays for himself, but only so that he can continue to provide for his tiny family. And in that moment, Tanaka forgot to pray for someone else.

“Nishinoya Yuu.”

There’s really no way to describe the sound of your lover’s name on the tongue of the devil, beckoning him to his inevitable demise. To hear the syllables rolled imperfectly and roughly so that if only for a moment, one might hope that the name belongs to another. For in that moment, one would sacrifice a thousand other precious people for that one.

There’s really no way to describe the contrast of ice webbing through Tanaka’s veins and the adrenaline that surged along with it. He would shake if only his body would function, if his brain would think, if his instincts would kick in. All he can take in are the muscles working in Yuu’s jaw, the stiffness of his posture, but the proud slant of his shoulders and the tilt of his chin. He is so, so beautiful and strong to face his death head-on.

He passes Tanaka. Tanaka meets Kazuhito’s eyes, the boy covering Hisashi’s while he lets out muffled sobs for ‘ _uncle Noya, uncle Noya, no, not uncle Noya…_ ’ Kazuhito looks at him with desperation, shaking his head slowly.

( _I have to. I have to. I won’t let him die._ )

“I volunteer as tribute.” Tanaka does not flinch at how cracked his voice sounds, nor does he flinch at the half-choked wail from Kazuhito as he steps out. Not at the look of disbelief and horror on Yuu’s face. Not Hisashi’s screams.

“Ryuu, Ryuu, no, don’t you dare,” Yuu whispers, grabbing his shoulders when Tanaka meets him. “You have a _family_ , you have a _life_ , I don’t have any of th—”

“No,” Tanaka murmurs. “No, I won’t watch you die, Yuu.” The Peacekeepers cut off any reply of Yuu’s, turning from protests to yelling and screaming, cursing Tanaka’s name as he was dragged from the scene, leaving the echoes of his broken howls to accompany Tanaka to the stage.

Tanaka doesn’t see the stage. He doesn’t see the white-gloved hands of the man guiding him across the stage, nor does he see the microphone or the silent girl next to him. He sees the red faces of his siblings and the shimmering in their eyes, and that’s enough to let the tears of his own fall. He is resolute—locked jaw and solemn expression—but the lines streaking his cheek prompt three younger boys in the front to kiss their hands, lift them to the sky in a three-finger salute, mirrored by all except the two bowled over in grief.

“That boy must have been someone pretty important to you, huh?” The escort comments lightly, but even he can feel the heaviness in the air, the gravity of the children’s respect for Tanaka’s actions.

“He _is_ my boyfriend,” Tanaka says, stronger this time. “That much hasn’t changed.” His clenched fists tremble and the girl steps forward, taking his hand in hers. Tanaka looks at her for the first time to see his old schoolboy crush, Shimizu Kiyoko. She dips her head in understanding, and his grip loosens a little.

“Er…well, that’s just bad luck, I suppose,” the escort says. “Could y—”

“It’s not bad luck,” Tanaka interrupts. “It’s genocide of the young and an act of terror on the Capitol’s part. Don’t mistake that for bad luck. But either way, I won’t let anything like luck or chances stop me—my name is Tanaka Ryuunosuke, and I’m going to win the Hunger Games.”

 

iv.

_strange things did happen here_

_no stranger would it be_

Yuu tears the door open in a whirlwind of energy, throwing Tanaka back against the wall, hands fisted in his shirt.

“How could you Ryuu?! How could you just leave your brothers like that? Who’s going to look after them?” He lets Tanaka go as soon as he grabs him, scrubbing at his own eyes furiously.

“I couldn’t let you die. You would have done the same for me,” Tanaka whispers.

“Selfish bastard,” Yuu chokes out. “I don’t have a family to look after.”

“You have Asahi—”

“Asahi is twenty, Ryuu!” Yuu yells. “He can look after himself if he really has to, he can work. Hisashi is just a _kid_.”

Tanaka cradles Yuu’s face in his hands, thumbing away the tears the best he can. Yuu takes a shuddering breath and presses their foreheads together, clinging to Tanaka’s elbows. “No more death,” Tanaka murmurs. “Not after mom and dad, not after so many of our friends—I won’t lose you too.”

“I—I’ll look after them, Ryuu, you know I will. Kazu will probably put his name in more times, but I’ll make sure he doesn’t overdo it. I can buy them material items, and Asahi hunts, so when Kazu starts working, they won’t have to buy so much food. I won’t let them die, Ryuu, so please don’t—” He breathes softly, but they both know he can’t ask that of Tanaka.

Tanaka nudges their noses together and kisses Yuu’s wet cheeks. Yuu was his best friend, his right hand, the other half of his being—the one and only person who mattered to him as much as his brothers. They loved Yuu; he would be a great provider for them, maybe could even take them in. They were fond of Asahi too; it’s not like they would be shacked up with a pair of people they couldn’t stand. They would be okay. They had to be.

Tanaka’s hands find Yuu’s hips and pull him closer. They kiss chastely, never breaking eye contact. Neither say it, but this could be the last time they ever see each other.

“Yuu…Hisashi…don’t let him watch when…”

Yuu shakes his head fervently. “No, I won’t. But Ryuu, please. You can make it back, okay? You’re strong, good with an axe—one of the best in our district. Just…” He breaks off and Tanaka nods, understanding.

“I’ll be home in time for Christmas, it’ll be like I was never even gone,” he jokes, coaxing a weak smile from Yuu.

“I love you,” Yuu croaks out. “I love you so, so much, and I believe in you.”

“I won’t stop thinking of you for a minute, love. It’ll be alright.”

The waiting room door opens, and a Peacekeeper steps in. “Time’s up.” Yuu presses himself closer against Tanaka, resisting.

“You’ll get in trouble,” Tanaka nudges him softly. Yuu gives him one more searching look, leans in to kiss him deeply for the last time, and parts from him reluctantly, just as the Peacekeeper pokes his head in.

Tanaka is alone for only a fraction of a second before Kazuhito and Hisashi rush him, nearly knocking him over with the force of their hugs. They don’t say anything specifically, but the room is filled with their wordless sobs.

“C’mon kiddos, chins up,” Tanaka says softly, wiping at both Hisashi’s and Kazuhito’s tears. Hisashi doesn’t detach himself, and even Kazuhito leans into the eldest, unusually affectionate. Tanaka pats Kazuhito’s cheek, prompting him to look at Tanaka.

“You know about the supplies I left you. Use them sparingly. Yuu and Asahi-san are going to look after you two now. Don’t you feel pressured to put your name in so often; I’ve made arrangements,” he explains. Kazuhito shakes his head slowly, still in disbelief.

“Nii-san, you can’t go…” Hisashi whispers.

Tanaka leans down to embrace the youngest. “Hey now, you have to be strong for your aniki, okay? He’s going to need you a lot more now, so promise me you’ll be helpful and kind to him.”

“P-promise,” Hisashi sniffles.

“And you know,” Tanaka says. “If you ever feel like you’re missing me terribly, remember that lullaby, alright? It’s my gift to you, passed down from our parents. Keep it close to your heart and know that I love you both very much.” They huddle together as Tanaka murmurs the words in a soft, sing-song voice. It’s much quieter than he would usually sing it, used to dancing around their house and chasing them off to bed while practically yelling the words.

“ _Oyasumi, oyasumi; close your eyes and you’ll leave this dream…oyasumi, oyasumi; I know that it’s hard to do…_ ”

The Peacekeeper actually has to step inside the room this time to tear the siblings apart. They don’t cry when they leave, Kazuhito yanking Hisashi’s arm from the Peacekeeper’s grip and glaring at him with such venom that Tanaka has to smile. _He’s strong. He’ll be able to take care of them_.

Tanaka sighs and looks out the window, resigned to wait until the escort dragged him and Kiyoko onto the bullet train heading right back to the Capitol. What he didn’t expect was for Asahi to burst through the doors with a wild look in his eyes.

“Tanaka,” he gasps. “Oh thank god, I thought I might be too late…”

“Asahi-san,” Tanaka barks in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I told the guard I was a cousin, but that’s not important,” he says, an edge of nervousness in his voice. “I…I wanted to tell you that I won’t space out. I won’t space out and rely on Noya like I did when my sister was chosen. This time, I can take care of them—hunting, fishing, sewing, I’ll do it all.”

“Good,” Tanaka says seriously. “Even Yuu is going to need your help, and Kazuhito is bound to try and take on more than he can hold. You have to be their balance. You have to be the reasonable one to counter Yuu’s impulsiveness. Don’t let them get hurt, that’s an order, Asahi-san.”

Asahi swallows and nods. “I swear I will.”

Tanaka pulls him in for a tight hug. “Thank you. For everything. I’m glad Yuu won’t be alone, with you there to look after his health.”

Asahi hugs him back just as tightly. “Until you come back, I’ll take care of him.”

“Asahi-san…”

“Please. For their sake as well as mine…try to win. Okay?”

“…Okay.”

 

v.

_if we met at midnight_

_in the hanging tree._

Tanaka might have known the man Ennoshita Chikara, but he did not know the victor Ennoshita Chikara. Like many of the non-careers who had won the Games in the past, Ennoshita developed a toxic relationship with both those who he had once called dear and an equally toxic substance. His days were filled with drinking booze, reading, and laughing at the Capitol-restricted programs on the holoscreen. Tanaka knew him when he was on track to heading up his own logging division, climbing the ranks with his cool personality and hard-working attitude. He had been a very close friend, but after several interventions on Tanaka and Yuu’s part that were met with nothing but open hostility, they grew apart. Ennoshita had no family to speak of, and for all Tanaka knew, he would remain alone in his self-imposed solitude for the rest of his life.

There were other victors in District 7, but Ennoshita had the unfortunate luck of landing tributes that he actually knew. Tanaka nearly balked at his unkempt hair and ragged stubble, so contrary to the clean-shaven and well-presented Ennoshita from his past. They butt heads almost immediately, only kept from actual fist fighting by the gentle but insistent Kiyoko, who pointed out that what was in the past should stay there and that they needed to focus on the present.

Nursing a glass of whiskey from the Capitol’s high class supply on board the train, Ennoshita’s mood improved significantly and he talked to the tributes about the importance of sponsors, even daring to crack a few jokes at Tanaka’s bald head and how nice one of the Capitol’s colorful wigs would look on him. That earned him a punch in the shoulder and a sigh from Kiyoko, but the mood was lightened. Talking about strategy was like discussing how best to beat the level of a game—survival kits just power-ups, killing other tributes a necessary challenge to reach the goal. There wasn’t any seriousness to the conversation, which was obviously making their escort, Takeda, nervous.

Tanaka wondered if this is how the careers held their strategy meetings.

The thought alone made him sick enough to retire early to his bed, complaining of having eaten too much. Since when did I start treating the Games like actual games? Since when was killing just sport? Since when did he ever stand a chance of winning? Tanaka doesn’t throw up even though he really does feel violently ill, opting to lie on his side and switch the holoshade of his window to forest-like scenery. He feels homesick and he misses having Yuu sneak in through the window late at night, chasing away the cold of the breeze with his body heat, spooning Tanaka and kissing the back of his neck.

He’s stirred from miserable musings by thumping in the room next to him. His first, horrible thought is that Ennoshita and Kiyoko got along _far_ too well, a suspicion that is not dissuaded by the whimpering that he can hear faintly. Tanaka is just about to put a pillow over his head and try to erase the memory of this ever happening when he hears a muffled shout.

It’s not a yell of pleasure and release—it’s the same wail that Kazuhito had uttered when Tanaka volunteered. He’s on his feet and out the door at once.

Tanaka throws the door open forcefully, running into the room blindly to see its occupant tangled in the sheets. He pulls apart the covers to reach the person hyperventilating and whining and _god_ , they’re so cold with sweat. Tanaka shakes them into consciousness, only becoming aware that it’s Ennoshita he’s holding when the wailing takes on distinctive masculine panting and muttering.

“Ennoshita… _gods above_ …” Tanaka whispers in disbelief, seeing his old friend completely distraught and a hollow shell of a man, clinging to Tanaka’s arms.

“Ryuu, Ryuu...” he whimpers, shaking his head furiously. “Don’t let them take me back…I can’t go back there, it’ll _destroy_ me…all that fakeness and celebration…I’ll die, I swear it, I’ll die..”

“Chikara,” Tanaka soothes, pulling his friend into an embrace. “Shh, Chikara, they’re not putting you back in the Games; you’re safe, you made it out. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

Ennoshita laughs bitterly. “The damage is done though, isn’t it? Every time I fucking close my eyes I see them staring back at me. Allies, enemies, it doesn’t matter. All I see are dead eyes blown wide, maggots across their skin, festering wounds left untreated too long, and blood. Coating me, choking me, and I just kill them over and over again, every time I sleep I’m a monster all over again…”

“That’s why they give us the money, you know? So we can lose ourselves in drugs and sex and not kill ourselves out of shame. All for the purpose of dragging us into the spotlight again and again—reopen wounds we’ve tried to close.” Tanaka’s shirt is soaked with a mix of sweat and tears but he doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word, just lets Ennoshita spill it all out in halting sentences and cutting words.

“What are you afraid of, Chikara?” he whispers, once the tremors stop. “Why now?”

“I’m afraid to see you die. Afraid to see you win. Ryuu, you should cut it off. End your life before _they_ can snatch it from you,” Ennoshita murmurs.

“Who’d look after you in the Capitol, then, huh? Who’s gonna give Yuu and Hisashi and Kazuhito hope?”

Ennoshita smiles into Tanaka’s collarbone. “You’re really something, Ryuu. I’m the one who’s going to make you the most desirable tribute, just you wait and see. But…promise me you won’t kill them, Ryuu. I know it’s hard, but if you kill them, then victory isn’t even worth it.”

“…I promise.”

“Good. Now let me get back to sleep already; I’ve got a full schedule of pestering Ittetsu tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going. I’m just a room over though, you know.”

“Thank you.”

 

vi.

_strange things did happen here_

_no stranger would it be_

The first time the stranger knocks against Kiyoko’s shoulder, Tanaka dismisses it as an accident.

“Whoops, sorry babe,” he shrugs and grins. The stud through his tongue compliments the dangerous glint in his eyes as he scans the pair of them critically. A tribute, then. And a career from the way he treats them so flippantly. He’s thin but sinewy—clearly not easy pickings. Tanaka and Kiyoko don’t bother to reply, although Ennoshita stares him down with venom in his gaze until he’s gone from sight.

“District 1, Terushima Yuuji. Watch out for him; he’s definitely bad news,” Ennoshita mutters.

Tanaka and Kiyoko try their best, honestly. They don’t see hide nor hair of any other tribute while they settle into their luxurious rooms, but when they walk down to meet Ennoshita before training, Kiyoko turns a corner and plows right into Terushima.

“Jesus! Oh…why hello,” Terushima purrs, recognition dawning on his face. “Fancy meeting you here again, gorgeous. Must be fate.” His eyes scan lazily over Kiyoko in an altogether different way this time, and Tanaka bristles. “You wanna hang out with me and my pals before we get down to business. Although I can’t promise you won’t be worn out during training.”

Tanaka steps forward, furious. “Oi! Get away from her, you fucking punk,” he growls. “Or I’ll—”

“Or you’ll what?” Terushima has the gall to laugh in his face. “Shave me bald? Kick my shins? Whatcha gonna do, big man?”

Tanaka puffs up his chest and stalks forward, intending to beat the shit out of Terushima—career or not. Terushima just giggles. “Oh god, I’m so scared.” He grabs Kiyoko’s arm. “C’mon babe, let’s ditch thi—”

A small, wickedly sharp knife finds both Terushima and Tanaka frozen. Kiyoko rests the point just above Terushima’s pupil, her other hand twisting the offending limb in a painful position and driving her sharp nails into Terushima's skin. Tanaka gapes and Terushima wears an equally shocked and frightened expression. They hadn’t even seen her move.

“According to the rules of the Hunger Games,” Kiyoko begins, deadly soft. “Tributes are not to kill one another before the Games. However, I don’t believe there are any rules against maiming or otherwise permanently injuring a tribute. I’d be happy to test my theory out. What say you, Terushima Yuuji? Would you like to lose an eye for my experiment?” She dips the blade dangerously close to his eye, and he scrambles from her grasp, falling on his ass in the process and tearing long scratches into his arm.

“Crazy bitch,” he spits, high-tailing it from their vicinity. Tanaka walks to Kiyoko’s side, amazed. She inspects her nails and removes a slip of skin from beneath one with her knife.

“That was amazing, Kiyoko-san,” Tanaka says in wonder.

“I believe this is the point where I tell you that I can look after myself, Tanaka,” she says simply, although not unkindly. “If you prove yourself capable, I’d be happy to have you as my ally, but don’t think that just because we’re from the same District I’ll coddle you if you slow me down. I hope that we can work together in the future.” She bows politely and struts off, leaving Tanaka with the memory of why he had fallen for her when they were kids in the first place.

“Ah, Kiyoko-sama, you’ll do just fine in the Games…” Tanaka laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

Tanaka turns on his heel, deciding to take a different route to training, and bowls straight into another person. “Gah! What the hell do you think you’re—”

Tanaka breaks off when he sees just who he’s facing off against. The guy is about his height, heavy build and a bright blond mohawk running down his head. His entire face is painted like a tiger’s, making him not only intimidating but unidentifiable. Besides the mohawk, of course. Tanaka snarls and glares at him, and is met by the same level of intensity. They hold steady, two predators locked in a showdown, before the guy looks away at the sound of a faint voice down the hall. Chancing one last glance at Tanaka, he snorts and walks after the voice without a word.

All of a sudden, making allies didn’t seem like the best course of action.

 

vii + viii.

_if we met at midnight_

_in the hanging tree._

 

Two hours in, and she was being eaten alive.

She was a skinny thing, shaking and sweating, eyes darting nervously at the other tributes. She kept her chin tucked tight against her chest, didn’t make eye contact with anyone. Her entire posture screamed defensive and frightened—literally painting a target on her back that had Terushima, tiger-face, and the female careers eyeing her with interest. Well, that wasn’t really the right word. They looked at her with hunger.

The male tribute from her District was abnormally tall, wild blond hair contrasting with the sharp edge in his eyes, framed in dark glasses. He was silent and intense. Even the careers gave him a wide berth. Tanaka wouldn’t have noticed the attention he paid the female tribute if he hadn’t been looking for it. Whenever she made a squeak of distress, a line of tension appeared in his shoulders, and if the noise sounded pained he would shoot a casual glance her way. Casual as the glance was, though, he still thoroughly assessed the situation and her health before swiftly returning to his own training.

Oh god, she’s trying the throwing knives.

To be fair, her aim isn’t half bad. She’s got an accurate eye, but the force behind her throws is weak and her stance is all wrong. Kiyoko’s the expert as far as knives are concerned, but she’s taken to a tiny, restless blonde who hangs on her every word and has hardly spared this other girl a look.

Crap, the intimidating ‘queen’ of the careers is looking restless. She’s proved herself deadly with javelins, but throwing knives aren’t that far of a stretch. Tanaka doubts that she’ll actually hurt the struggling girl—after Terushima's close encounter—but she’ll surely scare the living daylights out of her. Tanaka can’t just stand by and watch her get slaughtered by the jackals in the peanut gallery. He steps towards her quickly just as the queen hops to her feet. There’s an exchange of looks between them, the queen raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘is this really whose side you’re picking?’ but Tanaka ignores her.

“Oi.” His voice comes out a lot rougher than he intended. The girl yips and leaps a foot in the air, flinging her knife to the floor in panic. The careers snicker in the background and she shrinks even further into herself. Glasses is looking over again, analyzing Tanaka’s intentions and her safety with an icy stare. Tanaka shakes his head minutely, hoping to convey his intentions. Glasses sniffs and turns back to the trident he’s sharpening.

“What’s your name, huh?” Tanaka asks, trying to come off as conversational and sounding like he was going to mug her.

“Y-Y-Yamaguchi Tadashi,” she squeaks. “District 6.”

Tanaka nods. “Yamaguchi, you see those careers, don’t you?” She glances at them and returns his nod.

“They’re laughing at you. _Laughing._ You don’t even register on their radar as a possible threat. To them, you’re nothing but an easy kill and someone to test their weapons on in the initial bloodbath.”

“Oh no,” she says, shaking her head furiously. “I’m not going for supplies or anything, I’m going to r—”

“Oh really?” Tanaka cuts her off. “You really think they’re just gonna let you go scamper off and barricade yourself in a hole of some kind so that they have to go through all the trouble of hunting you down again? Think again.”

She swallows tightly and closes her eyes. Shit, Tanaka didn’t mean to upset her this much.

“Listen. You have to make yourself stronger. You have to show them that you’re not someone to target. You have to _make them_ want to let you go because they don’t want to pick a fight with you and waste time. You need to be as inconvenient as possible. You hear?”

Yamaguchi opens her eyes and nods furiously, taking a steadying breath. Tanaka smiles a little. “’Atta girl. Now, you’ve got potential where accuracy and aim are concerned, but your technique is far too low to handle throwing knives. Come with me.” She sheepishly puts back the other throwing knife and follows Tanaka to the other side of the room, dipping her head to acknowledge Glasses’ questioning look. The other tall guy—the one with smooth black hair and a vicious expression—lifts his head and watches them with mild interest.

“Here.” Tanaka thrusts a bow into her arms. “It requires some strength to pull the bowstring, and aiming’s gonna be a bit strange, but I think you can handle it. Additionally,” he raises an eyebrow at her. “You won’t be able to hesitate before the killing blow, as I’ve seen you’re prone to doing. Once you let the arrow fly, there’re no take backs.”

“Thank you so much,” she whispers, embarrassed blush dusting her cheeks. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“You really didn’t.”

The pair flip around to find the black-haired guy leaning against a wall, toying with the shortsword he favored. He fixes his glare on Tanaka in particular. “Don’t you know how the Games work? Leave the weaker to die; it’ll improve your chances. Let the careers tear her apart, it’s not like it concerns you.”

Yamaguchi flinches away from them both, looking guilty. Tanaka growls. He’s seen this kid before. He was the one arguing with the tiny, loudmouth redhead. They were practically tearing at each other’s throats—their mentors had to step in one things got physical. For such a small girl, that redhead was a fireball. Dark and Brooding still showed signs of a black eye. Tanaka stalks up to him and grabs the guy by the collar, surprising him.

“If you’re ready to throw away other peoples’ lives, you’ve already lost the game, asshole,” he snarls. “You think any of the victors made it out without making a few friends?”

“My oh my,” a new voice adds, sing-song. Glasses had finally showed up.

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi breathes.

“Picking even more fights, Kageyama? What, you looking for another black eye to match?” ‘Tsukki’ smirks and leans over Kageyama, rubbing their height difference in his face. “Might want to slow down a little, that looks pretty bad. Y’know, for a girl a head shorter than you.”

Kageyama yanks himself out of Tanaka’s grip to face ‘Tsukki’ head on. “What was that, Tsukishima bastard?”

Tsukishima holds his hands up in a mock attempt at placation. “Oh god, no, please don’t yell in my face, O Mighty King, I’m allergic to spit.”

Baring his teeth, Kageyama lunges at Tsukishima, who dodges right neatly. Tanaka elbows him in the side and raises an eyebrow. “Not as intimidating as he looks at first, huh?”

Tsukishima understands. “Wow, with reflexes that slow, even a blindfolded Yamaguchi could hit you.”

Bristling, Kageyama points his sword at the two of them. “You talk like you have a chance in hell against me, one-on-one. I’d like to see two _civilians_ take on someone who’s actually been trained for war.”

Tsukishima’s sneering mask drops in a second. “Try threatening her again. We’ll see what happens.” He swings his trident out in a neat arc, catching against Kageyama’s blade with a clang. _If looks could kill…_ Tanaka thinks.

“Hey! _Baka_ geyama! How dare you just tie me up and leave me to flounder when we’re in the middle of a very important argument!”

Surprisingly enough, the redheaded nemesis of Kageyama’s made her appearance, huffing and puffing.

Much to Tanaka and Tsukishima’s amusement, the expression on Kageyama’s face changed from one of fury into horror, exasperation, and then resignation. Unhooking his sword from Tsukishima’s he turned and hurled the sword at her as hard as he could. Yelping, she dodged easily, but it was clear he hadn’t directly aimed for her.

“Hinata, you goddamn moron, if it took you this long to escape the knots, then I am clearly the superior tier of knots.” His voice is tired and annoyed.

Hinata screws up her face. “No fair! I want a rematch. Again, again!” She bounces in place, carrot hair fluffing wildly.

“Will you shut up if I say yes?”

“Yeah! Let’s go! I’m gonna win the Hunger Games; you’ll see!”

Tanaka has a confused smile on his face, watching Hinata punch Kageyama hard in the arm, only to be thrown against a wall and screamed at. “Do…do they seem…close…to you, too?”

Tsukishima snorts. “Who cares.” He turns back to Yamaguchi, who had attached herself to Tanaka’s back during the confrontation. “You alright?”

“Yes Tsukki!” she chirps, bouncing over to him. “Sorry for making you worry.” Her smile falters a little.

Tsukishima flicks her in the forehead. “Take Tanaka-san’s advice, would you? The bow was obviously the best choice for your skills from the very beginning.” He gives her a serious look. “I’m not always going to be there to save your ass.”

She nods and grips her bow tighter. Turning to Tanaka, she bows deeply. “Thank you again. For everything.”

Tanaka rubs the back of his neck. “Oh it’s all fine, no problem. But you should really take your friend’s advice.”

“You take Kageyama’s advice too,” Tsukishima growls at him. “Don’t look after her or anyone else. Take care of yourself or you’ll be dead in the bloodbath trying to save some little kid and waste both your lives. But for the record…” He looks away. “Thank you. This time.”

Tanaka smiles. “Sure.”

 

ix.

_are you, are you_

_coming to the tree?_

When his eyes finally adjust to the blinding light of the arena, Tanaka finds himself in a sea of blue. Literally. Each of the tributes pads are tiny islands in an arch, significantly far from the multilevel island of supplies and weapons, a beacon of silver several hundred meters away. And beyond that, sand and palm trees. They were in a coastal biome. Of course it had to be terrain Tanaka was unfamiliar with.

The massive holoscreen projects the countdown from a minute. Nervously, Tanaka assesses any threats. To his right, Hinata is tensed and focused on the cornucopia. On his left, a nondescript, young tribute from an outer District. A few down from him were the careers. And a few past Hinata, Kageyama was staring at the water with a kind of horror Tanaka reserved for the partially chopped off limbs of loggers. A crazy thought entered his head. _Can Kageyama not…?_

A distant roar catches both his attention and that of the other tributes. There’s a yell of fear, and Tanaka looks over his shoulder to see a massive wave roaring towards them. His heart sinks. He hears another yell, and there’s the sound a bomb going off as one of the tributes abandons their pad. Tanaka glances at the clock, panicked. It appears as if the wave is timed to hit just as the timer goes off. He sets his stance to dive into the water as quickly as possible.

The timer sounds, and Tanaka is smashed by a wall of water. He’s under immediately, but paddles to the surface, breaking out with a gasp. The sounds of struggle fill his ears. Fifty meters to his left, tiger-face holds a struggling tribute underwater with his bare hands. Closer to Tanaka, a girl flails in the heavy weight of her clothing, drowning from her own attempts at preparation. Tanaka takes two strokes in her direction before a fearful cry pierces the air.

“Oh god, someone help! Kageyama can’t swim!”

_Fuck. His hunch was right._

It’s good riddance. Kageyama was very strong and skilled with his weapon. He wasn’t afraid to kill. Bad luck that he couldn’t swim, but they were down one dangerous candidate.

“Please, _please_ , I can’t carry him.” If only Hinata’s voice didn’t sound so desperate.

“ _Shut up_ , the careers will hear you,” Tanaka snarls, paddling towards Hinata. “Where the hell did he go down?” Hinata gestures to the area of water in front of him weakly. Tanaka takes a deep breath and dives down, praying that Kageyama was smart enough to pack light. He fumbles around in the thick water, fingers faintly brushing against material. Snatching at it, Tanaka gets two handfuls of Kageyama’s jacket and drags him back up.

“Go, go, go! Get to the island you idiot!” He yells at Hinata, who swims away, looking scolded and downtrodden.

 _What am I doing_ , Tanaka thinks _. I’m going to get myself killed by doing this. Kageyama is going to slit my throat. The careers will shoot at us. Opportunists will pick us off on the beach. I can’t survive this. I’m going to die. I’m going to die._ Despite his certainty, Tanaka makes it past the island in one piece, the careers safely occupying the upper levels and the crow’s nest, while the other tributes through their lot in together and teamed up against the pack. Two levels up, Hinata hugged the center wall and packed as many survival supplies as she could into a pack. _Good. At least she made it_.

All the hope melted from Tanaka’s body when he heard the second roar and the shouting from the tributes on the island. He turned just in time to see the second wave crash into them.

When Tanaka awakes, he is buried in what seems to be an entire pit full of branches, leaves, and dirt. He can barely see through the thick covering. It seems to be safe enough. He removes the covering, careful to be quiet in case any tributes were lingering. Assessing his surroundings, Tanaka found he wasn’t all that far from the beach, pulled just into the treeline. To his right, he could feel a pack, and pulling it out revealed the same pack Hinata had been filling, still partially full of supplies. A thank you, then. Neither she nor Kageyama were anywhere in sight.

Tanaka lets his hands drop and shoulders slump. What was he doing here? He couldn’t even let another boy drown. How was he supposed to kill them himself? He thinks of Kazuhito and Hisashi, Noya and Asahi. They all seem like they belong to another lifetime. Could he kill someone the same age as his brothers, someone who probably had family of their own, biting their nails and praying for their safety?

No. He couldn’t. Not even for his own survival could he play the game.

But that didn’t mean he had to give up.

Someone like him couldn’t win. He didn’t have the looks or the personality to wheedle life-saving gifts from sponsors. He wasn’t charming. He didn’t have a sob story. He wasn’t cold-hearted. He couldn’t murder innocent children.

Tanaka couldn’t win the Hunger Games, that much was certain. But he could do his damnedest to beat it.

He stood, brushing off the leaves and dirt, and made for the thicker forest.

 

x.

_wear a necklace of hope_

_side by side with me._

He finds her cradling a useless arm, the deep cut in her cheek trickling blood down to her lips, painting them an inhuman shade of red. Facing her, Kageyama was a line of tension, the shortsword he’d stolen from her dripping red. The atmosphere is charged with an angry and mournful energy. Kageyama’s inner conflict plays out on his face while Hinata lets fat drops of water fall from her eyes.

“Just do it!” She snarls, curling her lip. “Just kill me already! You _have_ to!”

Kageyama grits his teeth. “I can let you go. You…it’d be returning the favor.”

She laughs derisively, spitting blood. “O generous king, let me fall at your feet. Thank you, truly. Thank you for letting me slowly die of infection and weakness at the hand of blood loss, how _kind_.”

“You saved my life!” He yells back. “I can’t just take yours!”

“Do it!” Hinata commands. “Coward! Bastard! Idiot! Where’s that bloodthirsty demon who was so content to kill Yama-chan back in training?”

Kageyama shakes his head slowly but swings his sword back, preparing to deal the final blow. Hinata closes her eyes, stifling a sob.

That’s when Tanaka steps out, parrying just as Kageyama swings at her. It clangs sharply against Tanaka’s mace. He has the element of surprise on his side, and he manages to shove Kageyama back, swinging at him again and forcing him to dodge back, back. Away from Hinata.

Tanaka manages to knock Kageyama off his feet, and for a moment, there’s a look of fear in Kageyama’s eyes—the look of someone staring death in the face.

“Get gone,” Tanaka orders. “I won’t ask twice.”

Kageyama scrambles to his feet, grabbing the shortsword and his rope, casting one pained glance back at Hinata before disappearing into the foliage. Tanaka sighs and turns back to Hinata, who looks at him in confusion. “C’mere,” Tanaka says gruffly, motioning for Hinata to come closer as he sits down. She’s almost reluctant, edging away from him and looking him over suspiciously.

He motions again for her arm. “Let’s see it now. There we go…that’s a nasty slice.” Tanaka fiddles around in his bag for the salve he had received a few nights ago for a minor cut of his own that had been starting to look infected. He’s still not sure why he even got a sponsor—it’s not like his interview had been inspiring or anything. Leave that to Terushima, charming and deadly; Hinata, full of life and confidence that she would win the Games; and Yachi, stealing everyone’s hearts with her purity and gentle determination.

_(But there was stirring of interest in the Capitol—someone stood out in the Games, a peacemaker of sorts._

_He didn’t fight and he didn’t kill, but he had earned the respect and fear of the tributes as he defended and saved them, even before the Games had begun. Who was this underdog? How could he defy death and his own fear so easily? Interesting, interesting._

_Noya just laughed. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” he said to the holoscreen._

_Two days later and Tanaka received a gift with the message: for you and whoever’s path you grace.)_

Hinata flinches at the cold sting of the salve. “Hurts,” she mutters, and Tanaka snorts.

“It’s gonna save your life,” he replies.

She squints at him, almost accusatory. “Tanaka-san,” she starts. “This…isn’t how you play the game. You’re doing it all wrong. You should have killed both me and Kageyama while our defenses were down. You can’t continue like this.”

“Oh really?” Tanaka raises an eyebrow. “And what if I don’t want to play the game right?”

Hinata doesn’t have an answer for him.

“Hinata, just so you know…I haven’t been playing _their_ game from the start. I go by my own rules.”

“Be careful,” she murmurs. “ _They_ won’t like that very much.”

Tanaka shrugs. “What they like is irrelevant. As of now, I’m untouchable.”

 

xi.

_where dead man called out_

_for his love to flee._

The bravado holds until Suga.

Suga was like Tanaka in that his end game wasn’t to kill. He didn’t like it; still flinched at bloodshed and death. Tanaka came across him and his ally, Daichi, early on in the game. They had banded together to take down the female careers and wound tiger-face. Their dynamic worked well in that Suga laid the plans and the trap while Daichi did the dirty work. Last Tanaka had seen of them, they were tracking tiger-face’s blood trail to wipe out him and Terushima. Obviously, that hadn’t worked out so well.

It’s so funny. Suga’s face doesn’t have a speck of blood on his beautiful pale skin. He’s still smiling at Tanaka, even though there are tears running from his eyes.

“Ta…” he tries, and a wet cough splatters blood all across his chest, dribbling down his chin and choking him. Tanaka rushes forward, tilting his head back delicately so that he could breathe.

“Shh, shh. It’s gonna be okay Suga-san. I’ve got you,” Tanaka chokes out himself. He can’t look past Suga’s neck, can’t look at it, even though he knows he’ll have nightmares from just a glance.

Suga shakes his head weakly. “Nnn…”

“Where’s Daichi-san?” Tanaka whispers.

Suga coughs a little more. “Sep…arated. Teru…wanted…’venge.”

Tanaka swallows thickly. He forces himself to look down. Down the dried blood encrusting the tatters of Suga’s jacket. Down the lacerations from Terushima’s metal claws. Down to his abdomen, where Tanaka nearly throws up from seeing the deep slashes, the pinkish-grey of entrails that should never have seen the light of day, spilling onto the ground. Suga’s head falls back.

“’S bad,” he slurs. Tanaka tries to think of something to say, anything.

“Maybe…” But Suga is already shaking his head.

“So much pain,” he whispers. “Just…end it.”

Tanaka’s eyes go wide. “I can’t.”

“Have to,” Suga says, reaching a bloodied hand to cup Tanaka’s cheek. “Hurts…so, so much. Wanna…wanna see Dai…”

“Daichi’s alive, he has to be,” Tanaka argues, voice cracking. “He’s strong enough to take down Terushima.”

“N…not ‘f Tora’s with ‘im,” Suga shakes his head again. “Please.”

Tanaka swallows thickly, looks one last time at the wound that could only be fatal, and stands. Suga smiles again, closing his eyes. “Thank you,” he croaks.

“Godspeed,” Tanaka whispers, tears dripping.

He screams at the blood.

 

xii.

_are you, are you_

_coming to the tree?_

 

Yachi goes down with a shriek, and Kiyoko follows her down, catching her and putting pressure on the area around the arrow, already turning bloody. Hinata yells and leaps in front of them, shielding them with her body. Her shortsword knocks the bow from Tsukishima’s hands. His eyes narrow, and then he goes for her with his bare hands, dodging strikes and shooting punches.

“Tanaka, protect Hinata! She cannot be allowed to die!” Daichi’s order rises above the din of battle against a sly girl with a whip. Daichi’s stronger, but she’s faster. He hisses as her whip tastes blood, but that small moment of victory costs her her life when she pauses to revel in her success. Daichi cuts her down without blinking, the cannon sounding in the distance.

_Strange that she would attack Daichi, clearly the strongest of us, on her own. Doesn’t make sense. It’s almost as if…_

Tanaka sees the glimmer on the tall grass off to Daichi’s side. One tiny flash, and it all clicked into place. “ _Daichi, your left!_ ” Tanaka screams.

Daichi parries just as Terushima shoots from his cover, howling in anger as his plan is foiled. He shoves Daichi back through sheer brute force, punching him in the solar plexus and chasing him as he backs away. A swipe with his claws, a destabilizing kick. Step on the foot, cut the shoulder. Daichi is getting slaughtered. Tanaka sees the last of the ambush party’s members, a lanky boy, grin at him in preparation to fight. But that is not Tanaka’s battle.

He turns his back on the boy, sprinting to Daichi’s aid. Terushima digs deep gashes across Daichi’s chest, enough to scrape bone, and he falls with a groan. Licking his lips, Terushima raises his clawed hand to finish Daichi. Tanaka swings his mace before Terushima can strike again. The resounding _crack_ grabs the attention of the ambush party. Terushima crumples, blood pouring from his skull. His eyes are dead, dead, blank. Tanaka does not look away.

_Remember this. Remember who you killed. Make sure that this never leaves you._

“Retreat!” Tsukishima calls, leaving the bow and grabbing his trident, calling back the boy and tiger-face, who had appeared from shadow.

“Don’t follow, Hinata,” Daichi croaks, when Hinata takes a few running steps after them. She growls, but whips back around to Yachi.

“Is she okay?” Kiyoko looks up and nods.

“A little salve and she’ll be set. But we need to move. They will regroup and find us again.”

“She’s right,” Daichi says, sitting up and patching himself up as much as he can. Tanaka leans in to help, but Daichi waves him off. “You’ve done well enough, Tanaka.” The look he gives Tanaka says he understands the sacrifice he made for Daichi.

“Come on, it’s bad luck to sit around the dead.”

 

xiii.

_where I told you to run_

_so we’d both be free_

_She mustn’t die. She mustn’t die. She mustn’t die. The revolution depends on her._

Tanaka tore through the undergrowth towards the meeting place. He could already hear the hovercraft’s whirring intermingled with the sputtering of the forcefield as it died out. _Hinata, Hinata, brave and foolish Hinata—she set the whole plan into motion all on her own._

Tanaka burst into the clearing in time to see Hinata’s limp body being helped into the craft by Daichi and Kiyoko, lifting her in. Sticking close to Kiyoko, Yachi gripped her needles tightly.

 _Thank god_ , Tanaka thought. _Both of our Mockingjays are safe._

“Murderer.” The hissed voice came from Tanaka’s left, concealed in the bushes. He recognized it too late to warn Yachi.

Tanaka did the only thing he could do—he hurled himself in front of her, taking the full brunt of Tsukishima’s trident. Yachi screamed and Tsukishima howled in frustration. Kiyoko and Daichi froze, wanting to help, but holding precious cargo.

“ _Why_ ,” Tsukishima growled, looking far less composed than Tanaka had ever seen him. “Why do you keep protecting that _murderer_?”

Tanaka could barely think, let alone speak through the pain. “All…murderers.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hinata’s shortsword, abandoned on the ground. He fumbled weakly for the handle and Tsukishima, distraught, did not see him.

“ _She killed Tadashi! The same Tadashi you defended in training!_ ” Tsukishima shouts.

“She would have shot me,” Yachi whispers. “I didn’t…I never wanted to.”

“Why do you get to live while Tadashi—” Tanaka cuts off his speech by plunging the sword straight through his heart, impaling himself further on the trident in the process. Tsukishima made a weak bubbling noise and slumped to his knees.

“Because…she and Hinata…are more than just people,” Tanaka pants. “They are our _hope_. The hope of JaPan.”

The last thing Tanaka sees before he dies are his brothers and Noya, beckoning him home with haloes of light around their heads.

 

xiv.

_are you, are you_

_coming to the tree?_

_they strung up a man_

_they say murdered three._

Tanaka does not mean to wake, but he does.

He’s warm and light, swaying gently in a way that nearly soothes him back to sleep. Maybe just a few more minutes of sleep…

“You’re awake.”

The voice comes from above him, and is much deeper than any Tanaka can remember off the top of his head. He cracks his eyes open curiously and finds himself face-to-face with a familiar, tiger-painted face. Tanaka jolts awake, and it’s in that moment he realizes that tiger-face is _carrying_ him.

“ _Who_ —? What is—”

“You’ll have a lot of questions soon, most of which I’m not authorized to answer. I will tell you what I can.”

“ _Put me down!_ ”

“Your injuries would become agitated and possibly reopen if I were to do that. Not the best job I’ve done, I’ll give you that.”

“Why would _you of all people_ stitch up my wound?”

Tiger-face gives him an exasperated look. “I suppose we haven’t been properly introduced. My name is Yamamoto Taketora. I have been secretly orchestrating the breakout of several of the tributes toward the end of the Games, specifically the Mockingjays, from the inside. I disguised myself as one of the career pack to avoid challenge. My mission was to safely escort you here.”

“Here? Where the fuck is _here_?”

Yamamoto grins. “Welcome to District 13, Tanaka Ryuunosuke.”

**Author's Note:**

> songs used are obviously 'The Hanging Tree' by James Newton Howard and Jennifer Lawrence, and the lullaby is 'my time' by bo en. not actually a lullaby, but i'm quite fond of the lyrics, so i used it.


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